Mark stepped away from the van that had been parked on the campgrounds, looking around Adirondack Camp silently. From this spot, he had a good view of the cabins and the lake, as well as the multitude of children either searching for their friends to say goodbye or just waiting to get on the busses that would take them back home. It was so strange setting foot here again after twenty-six years, but in spite of how much time had passed, everything looked exactly the same as he'd remembered it. Without a word, he walked through the camp until he reached one particular tree near the basketball court. Hesitating for only a moment, he laid a hand against the tree trunk. As he did so, he could almost see images from the past replaying in front of him, triggered by the memories tied to this place.

Flashback

"You won't be able to!" fifteen-year-old Roger shot out in a tone that was usually adopted when someone was not talking sense.

"I will so," Maureen fired back confidently, beaming. "Just watch me."

"Maureen, you live in Hicksville," Roger argued. "Do you know how far Scarsdale is from there? There's no way you're going to be able to walk five thousand miles."

"It's not five thousand miles from Hicksville to Scarsdale," Maureen rolled her eyes.

"Who cares?! I'm telling you, you won't be able to make it. Mark, will you put down that da-n camera and back me up here?"

"Roger, it sounds as if you don't want Maureen to come visit us after camp's over," Mark pointed out, lowering his camera, a Kodak XL 340, as he took a seat next to his best friend beneath the tree next to the campground's basketball court.

"I'm not saying that," Roger scowled, folding his arms and glaring in the opposite direction. "I just don't want her to try and walk that whole way, because she'll probably have to go along the highway, and then she'll get run over, or kidnapped, or picked up by the cops, or…."

"If I didn't know any better," Maureen grinned deviously, "I'd think you were concerned about me."

"No chance," Roger scowled even more. "I just know that if you're picked up by the cops trying to walk to Scarsdale to see us, Mark and I will get in trouble for encouraging you to do it."

"You're not fooling anyone, Davis. I know you're really worried about me," Maureen teased as she ruffled his hair.

"Hey!" Roger cried, slapping her hand away. "I told you never to touch the hair!" Maureen shook her head and turned to Mark while Roger started attempting to 'fix' his hair from the ruffling.

"You want to see me come and visit though, don't you Marky?" she crooned.

"Yeah, of course," Mark replied without hesitation. "But…Roger does have a point. It is a little too far to walk, and who knows how many things might happen to you on the way?"

"If you're that worried about it, I'll just take the bus or something, even though it wouldn't be half as exciting," Maureen relented. "But I'm gonna come see you two, no matter what I have to do. Just because camp's over tomorrow, that doesn't mean you've gotten rid of me." Giving the boys one last Cheshire cat grin, Maureen turned and headed off to her cabin.

"Oh, we're not getting rid of her?" Roger frowned. "Sh-t, I was looking forward to how quiet things would be without her around."

"Quit the lying bullsh-t, Rog," Mark sighed. "You're gonna miss her, too."

"No chance," Roger insisted, starting to sulk. Instead of arguing, Mark shook his head and started watching Roger's face, just waiting. Sure enough, after a few seconds, the corners of his mouth started to twitch before immediately growing into a full-blown smile, accompanied by a short burst of laughter. Sometimes, Mark felt that Roger was just too predictable. He never could keep up the indifferent attitude for very long.

Feeling the urge to capture Roger's smile on film, Mark lifted up his camera again, only to have Roger playfully cover the lens cap with his hand.

"Aw, come on, Mark," he laughed. "You don't have to drag that thing out every second."

"I do when it involves your best friend smiling," Mark quipped. "Especially since that best friend tries to act tough all the time. Who knows when you're gonna crack a smile again?"

"Shut up," Roger, pushing aside the tough guy act aside for a moment, replied with a one-armed brotherly hug. "You're acting tomorrow's the end of the world or something, and I won't have the chance to smile again." Roger's smile shifted into a mischievous smirk. "Hate to break it to you, Cohen, but I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me 'til you're a wrinkled old fart."

End Flashback

Mark felt his fists clench at the old memory, doing his best to hold back his tears. Being back here again reminded him of his and Roger's childhood belief that things would never change, and nothing could ever separate or harm them. He sometimes wished that their teenaged selves could have known how the harsh reality of real life could change that completely.

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt someone take hold of his hand, giving it a gentle, sympathetic squeeze. Knowing who it was, Mark tightened his grip on her hand before glancing wearily back at Emily.

"You're missing him, aren't you?" she asked softly.

"He once said, in this very spot, that he wasn't going anywhere," Mark remembered. "When we were kids here, we believed that we had all the time in the world. Back then, I only bothered filming him on holidays, or his birthday. Things like that. I never really started filming the everyday stuff until after the diagnosis, and by then… there were so many moments that were gone forever, and the only thing I have left is just the memories. But sometimes, I have trouble remembering them, too."

"I know how you feel," Emily replied, moving closer to him. "When my brother died, I didn't have as many pictures of him as I would have wanted. And…I miss him too, Mark. I really do."

For a time, the two stood by the tree, not saying anything and relying solely on their proximity for comfort, until a cheerful voice broke the moment.

"Mom! Dad!" Turning, Mark and Emily saw Lucia racing towards them. Close behind her was Rodolfo and Alvin, supporting Zack as he hobbled along with his injured ankle, and a young fifteen-year-old girl with black hair that neither of them recognized.

"Hello, Lucia," Emily greeted their daughter with a hug. "Did you have a good time at camp?"

"The best!" Lucia announced with a large smile before moving on to hug her father as well.

"Hi, Uncle Mark, Aunt Emily," Rodolfo greeted before gesturing to the girl who was standing nearby. "This is Kris, the girl we told you about in the letters."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. 'n Mrs. Cohen," Kris smiled placidly.

"Oh, so this is the one who found five four leaf clovers during your scavenger hunt," Mark surmised.

Yeah, she sure is," Zack confirmed. "Dad, we were actually wondering. Since Kris lives in the city, too, we were hoping it would be okay if she gets a ride home with us."

"Well," Mark glanced at Kris, pretending to think. "I don't see a problem with that. Of course she can come with us."

A short time later, the family had assembled at the van, so Zack could sit down and keep his weight off his ankle. This gave the kids a chance to give a recount of their time at camp while Alvin, Rodolfo and Kris helped pack their duffel bags into the back of the van. During the process, Mark paused while picking up a guitar case, his brow furrowing from the memories it brought back.

"Oh, yeah," Zack spoke up when he glanced over. "That's Kris'. She plays guitar, just like Uncle Roger did."

"I see," Mark nodded numbly, carefully storing it into the van. Once again, he remembered his own experience at camp, and how Roger had played his guitar nonstop during the bus ride back home. Heaving a heavy sigh, Mark was unable to stop himself from stepping away from his family to be alone with his thoughts. He finally came to a stop on the docks, and stared aimlessly out at the water for a very long time. It was a while before Mark realized Rodolfo had joined him, but even when he did, neither of them said anything for a good two minutes longer. It was Rodolfo who broke the silence first.

"Uncle Mark, there were two counselors here, John and Greg. They said they went to camp with you and Dad."

"John and Greg, huh?" Mark nodded in remembrance. "We always thought that they'd try to be counselors here."

"They…wanted me to give you this," Rodolfo continued, pulling out a manila envelope. Inside, there was a photograph of him and Roger when they were at camp. It was pretty clear that John and Greg had taken the picture of the 1981 campers, and had blown up the section that contained Mark and Roger. The filmmaker instantly felt sincere gratitude towards John and Greg. As far as he was concerned, he could never have too many pictures of Roger from those carefree days, before gritty reality had brought that era to a screeching halt.

Tucking the manila folder under his arm, Mark spared a glance at Rodolfo, taking in how, while his eyes and nose had undoubtedly came from Mimi, he was almost a mirror image of Roger. It was this observation that gave him the strength to speak again.

"Zack told me about how you threw the relay race to go back and help him after his fall," Mark spoke, resting a hand on Rodolfo's shoulder. "Even without that award you ended up winning because of it, your father would have been proud of what you did, putting your friend's safety before your own personal goals."

"You think so?" Rodolfo glanced up at his 'uncle'.

"I don't even have a doubt about it. He was my best friend, after all. In fact…. he would have done exactly the same thing in that situation."

At Mark's words, a smile bloomed on Rodolfo's face. Roger's smile, Mark couldn't help himself from thinking. This time, however, the instant flood of memories that penetrated his mind weren't accompanied by pain. Roger, his best friend and brother, was still gone forever, but it had never been clearer then it was now that the best part of Roger still lived. Not just in the countless memories, but in Rodolfo as well.